“Oh no, it’s okay.” Heat rushed to her cheeks. She was embarrassed and so uncomfortable.
Luke pulled the door open, and she practically ran through it, dying to get away from him.
“It was terrible! And when I say terrible, I mean unbelievably awkward, uncomfortable, and torturous!” Embry said, flailing her arms.
“Tell me how you really feel,” Morgan said dryly, sipping her beer.
Embry had met Morgan for happy hour after seeing Luke. That meeting definitely necessitated more than one alcoholic drink.
“It was awful,” she shouted over the happy hour crowd.
“I’m getting that.”
“I have no idea how we’re going to make this work. Going from whatever we were to … to this. It sucks.”
Morgan shrugged and took another sip of her beer.
“What?” Embry asked.
“Nothing,” Morgan replied, looking bored.
“What do you mean nothing? Why are you so quiet about this? You always have two cents to put in.”
“You don’t want to hear my two cents on this,” Morgan warned.
Embry rolled her eyes and let out an aggravated sigh. “Of course I do. You’re my best friend. I need advice.”
“My advice won’t be what you want to hear.”
“Well tell me anyway,” she prodded.
“Fuck him.”
“What?” Embry was sure she had heard wrong.
“Fuck. Him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Told you you wouldn’t like it,” Morgan said.
“I don’t understand what you’re suggesting.”
“I’m suggesting that you get over yourself and get under Luke.”
Embry gasped, smacking her best friend on the arm. “Morgan!”
“What?” Morgan laughed. “I’m serious. This thing between you two won’t go away. Fuck him. Have fun. Fall in love. Whatever. But just be happy, because this Bree”—she motioned toward Embry—”is no fun.”
Embry opened and closed her mouth like a fish, having no idea what to say. “You think I should have an affair with my professor?”
“No. I think that you should have a relationship with Luke, the man who makes you happy.”
“I don’t know, Morgan,” she said, completely unsure of what to do.
“Try for friends then.”
“Friends?”
Morgan shrugged.
“Have you ever been friends with a professor? Let alone a hot male professor that every student wants to sleep with? How am I supposed to be his friend? Can I even go back to being friends after … well, you know. How can I be friends with my professor when I know what he can do to me with his mouth?” Embry snapped her jaw shut and her eyes widened as she realized she’d been thinking out loud.
Morgan smirked and shook her head. “What choice do you have?”
On Friday, Embry experienced deja vu as she dragged herself up the stairs toward the faculty wing. She wasn’t looking forward to another awkward meeting with Luke. Class with him had been more of the same: avoiding eye contact and sneaking glances when the other wasn’t looking. There was only so much more she could take. Morgan’s words ran through her head. “Fuck. Him.”
Embry pushed away the thought, knowing that wouldn’t solve anything. She approached Luke’s office, knocked, and waited for an answer.
The door swung open, and Luke stood in the doorway. “Hi, Embry. Come on in.”
He looked about as worn down as she felt. She watched him walk back to his desk, sit down, and loosen his tie. She was mesmerized as he unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves, unable to take her eyes off of his hands.
“You gonna sit?” he asked.
Embry flushed. She took her place on the edge of one of the large leather chairs and dug through her bag, pretending to look for something instead of acknowledging Luke’s eyes on her.
“Okay, enough,” he said, voice tight.
Embry looked up, eyes wide with confusion. “What did I do?”
“Nothing. You didn’t do anything,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “This is just so goddamn uncomfortable. It’s ridiculous. I’ve had you in my bed, for Christ’s sake.”
Embry looked at him in surprise, not believing what had just slipped from his mouth. “Hence why it’s so awkward,” she said, smirking.
Luke lifted his eyes to the sky and shook his head at her, a wide grin splitting his face. They broke into laughter as the tension eased from the room.
“This isn’t us,” he continued after they’d composed themselves.
“There isn’t an us anymore. We can’t be us,” Embry said quietly.
“Yes, we can. We’re not strangers, Bree. We don’t have to act like it.”
“Okay.”
“We can be friends.”
She looked at him skeptically. Morgan’s suggestion of friendship played in her head. She wasn’t sure professors and students were supposed to be friends.
“Friend-ly,” he amended.
“Okay, we can try.”
His dimples deepened as a large smile spread across his face. She was left with the thought that being friend-ly with Luke would be the death of her.
15
As the weeks passed, Luke and Embry fell into an easy routine. They met every Monday and Friday, and most Wednesdays, at four p.m. Embry became something of a personal assistant on top of working on Professor Coleman’s research. She helped keep his office organized, did filing, and even helped with the few private clients he had. Since he had to be on campus, Luke kept all of his files in his faculty office instead of splitting time between Whitman and his office in Oyster Bay.
Embry learned quickly that Luke was incapable of keeping his office organized. As clean and put together as his town home was, his office was the complete opposite. He didn’t seem able to put anything back where it belonged. His desk was littered with papers, and large accordion files for each case lined the floor. She was positive he would have no idea where anything was without her.
By October, leaves of orange, red, and yellow littered the grounds. Embry made her way across campus and pulled her sweater tighter around her body as wind whipped against her cheeks and knotted her hair. She’d forgotten how much she’d missed fall in New York. Amazing foliage, apple picking, pumpkin spiced everything, hayrides, roasted corn, home-baked pies … It was heaven.
In the warmth of the law school, she made her way to the faculty wing and didn’t bother to knock before she walked into Luke’s office.
“Where’s the Allen file?” he asked without looking up when she walked in.
“Hello to you, too.” She plopped a coffee on his desk. “Bottom drawer, middle file cabinet.”
“Hi.” He grabbed the coffee, looking up and giving her his signature Luke smile. “You’re too good to me.”
“I know.” She walked over to the cabinet and pulled the file, dropping it on the ledge behind him.
Their new normal was pushing boundaries, seeing how far they could go without crossing the imaginary line they’d drawn. But somehow, the line seemed to keep moving. She hopped up on his desk, and he rolled out his chair, making room for her between his legs as his warm hands came down on her jean-clad thighs. She looked at his hands then back up at his face, her eyebrow raised. He shot her a mischievous look, and she held his heated gaze. He gave her thighs a light squeeze and dragged his hands down her legs before dropping them back into his lap.
“Change in schedule this week,” she said, ending the moment. She pushed him back and hopped off his desk, creating some much-needed distance.
He smirked, unaffected by her brush off. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Memos are due on Friday, so I won’t be around the rest of the week to help out.”